


The Changeling

by litra



Series: magical marvel [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Blanket Permission, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Magical Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 17:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17667236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litra/pseuds/litra
Summary: Steve was a changeling. He had no memory of the people under the hill but his mother told him all the stories she could remember. She made no secret of what he was, but assured him that she did love him.





	The Changeling

**Author's Note:**

> So, I actually wrote this a while back and never posted it. Oops.

His mother had left the window open one night and she was a good Irish girl, she knew the signs. She could have taken the baby to the country or even the park and left it in a tree overnight to get her child back but there wasn't time, and she was so tired from all the long shifts. When the baby cried it was hers it didn't matter if he wasn't her flesh.

He was often sick surrounded by iron and salt as they were. She was a nurse. She quickly found that there was water in his veins rather than blood, and starlight in his eyes, but she was able to hide it. It made sense that she'd take care of her boy to save a little money. No one asked any questions.

As he grew she warned him to stay away from iron, never give his full name, and always get permission before entering a person's home. She taught him everything she could.

As he grew he understood it better. He might be a changeling and so bound to a human shape and human limitations, but he still had the sight of his birth people. He could see the twisted shapes of the kelpies in the river and the nightcaps who looked like beggars in the park. He could glance over a crowd and tell who had the favor of the court and who had angered it, their aura shining out around them. When he went down to the dockyards, or wandered into different neighborhoods he could understand the strange languages spoken there as if they were his own.

His mother told him to keep quiet about it. Secrets were powerful things, and if anyone found out they might hurt him or worse, take him away. These days people didn't remember the old ways. They would say he was crazy, speaking in tongues. He understood. It was in his bones, the rules of magic that kept him alive.

 

He was thirteen when he met Bucky. It was an auspicious age. Things started at thirteen in more than one of the stories.

Steve had been fighting. The older boys said they didn't like the look of him. Not that it mattered what the excuse was on any given day. His too-pale blood was dripping onto the paving stones and he had his fists raised, despite the fact that he was outnumbered and half their size.

 

He meets Bucky and Bucky saves his life and then asks him his name. Steve asks if that's all he wants (names are precious and if he could give something else he would) and Bucky brushes it off saying what he doesn't think Steve has anything else. So Steve tells Bucky his full name in exchange. Bucky calls him Stevie which is good, nicknames are fine, but they're still bound together now. Bucky introduces himself with his full name, not realizing the power and trust he'd placed in Steve's hands. Steve, like everyone else, just calls him Bucky. It's safer that way.

After a while Steve doesn't mind so much. Bucky is human, but he's also from an old family and doesn't mind when Steve does strange things sometimes.

Bucky saves him three times over and after that they're bound for life. Steve tries to tell Bucky, but at first Bucky brushes it off. He doesn't believe it until the next time Steve gets sick and his Ma makes tea with herbs and river water. The herbs he can understand but no one would want to drink the water from that river.

The whole truth ends up coming out, and with both Steve and his Ma going on about it, Bucky starts to believe it. Steve tells him that Bucky owns his life. and Bucky tries to give it back, offer him his freedom, but that's not how it works. Plus they're friends now. Neither of them are just going to leave.

Eventually Steve's Ma dies. He mourns her as a real mother. She's the only mother he's ever known despite the fact that he knows he has other family under the hill. He's still small as he grows, but he's strong enough to get by. He and Bucky get an apartment and most of the time the fact that Steve is a changeling doesn't matter.

Then the war starts.

Bucky says that it isn't Steve's war. It's a human war and if he can use that as an excuse to keep Steve out of it, then he will. Steve doesn't like it but agrees, right up until Bucky gets drafted. Then it doesn't matter if it's a human war, he has a stake in it. He owes Bucky.

Except they don't take him.

Steve doesn't care about lying on the enlistment forms. He doesn't really want to give his real full name anyway, but it doesn't matter. They don't take him, no matter what he says. He uses every bit of magic he has to mitigate the iron sickness and hide his too pale blood, but it's not enough. There's too much steel in the exam rooms.

Howard stark is magic. He's human as far as Steve can tell from a distant glance, but he's made some kind of deal, and there's magic in his veins now. Magic of steel and glass. Magic that only a human could properly wield.

Then he meets the alchemist.

Bucky is gone by that point, off to take the girls dancing. Bucky keeps trying to push girls on him, but none of them shine as bright as Bucky. None of them would understand, so why try?

The alchemist looks at him and sees him for what he is. His eyes shine with the sight when he takes off his glasses in the exam room. He says his name is Erskine. He says it with a twisting accent so that even though it's his real name it's not a Name. Steve is going to have to remember that trick.

"So you want to fight Nazis?" Erskine asks.

Steve asks if it's a test because one of the fae would have to answer truthfully, and those touched with their magic sometimes have to follow the same rules.

Erskine answers "Yes" as calmly as if they were speaking about the weather.

Steve answers very carefully. He tells the truth, but not the whole truth. He doesn't say that it's his war, or that he owes Bucky his life. He says he hates bullies, which is true. His answer seems to be enough. When Erskine asks where he's from he nearly says Winter. Instead he smiles and says Brooklyn, because that's true too. He doesn't want to lie to Erskine.

Boot camp is a mix of puzzles and trials the like of which he'd never faced before. There's something in it that sings to him. The challenge of the hunt. The cunning of the Fox and the speed of the stag. It helps that they're away from the city. For once there isn't Iron everywhere he looks. It's the only reason he manages to keep up. The other men are taller, and broader and they've lived with their power their whole lives while Steve is just getting used to his.

The grenade was a surprise. He had honestly thought it was real, rushing forward, pushing winter magic at the object and desperately hoping it would be enough to quench the explosion's fire. That time Erskine didn't answer when he asked if it was a test, but he had his answer so it didn't matter.

Peggy Carter was something else. He couldn't pin her down at first. She wasn't magic as he knew it. There was certainly magic there. She wasn't human. She wasn't full blood Fae. Steve had only seen a few of the Lords and Ladies of the court. It was tricky for them to walk the land. She wasn't a changeling like him. Iron seemed to have no effect on her. She looked at him like she saw him, and hadn't yet made up her mind if she liked what she saw or not.

The night before the procedure Erskine came to him. The Alchemist told him about his home. He drank half a bottle of German schnapps, and then he started really talking.

"My formula, it brings out what is inside, and we both know what is inside you."

Steve's namesake might have been born in summer but he was stolen away in spring, when the first snows started to melt. It's that winter melt-water that Steve was truly born of.

"The machine is iron. It will hold you while the process is running, but afterworlds..."

Erskine takes another swallow from the bottle.

"There's something I have to do. A debt I have to pay back. I owe you for this. I won't forget it," Steve says. It's dangerous. It's also the truth. If he can, he'll pay Erskine back in whatever way the man might choose. The Alchemist nods slowly, but doesn't say anything as he continues to stare at the bottle.

In the back seat of the car the next day he finally gets up the courage to ask. Maybe it's because he could die here. The serum might not work on him. It might turn him into something completely inhuman. He admires Peggy so he tries to be polite and ends up stumbling over himself. "A Lady, a Dame, an Agent--"

"You really haven't seen much of the world have you?" She asks with a raised eyebrow.

"This is probably the longest conversation I've ever had with..." He trails off. He's about to say never mind it doesn't matter, but she smiles.

"Diligence."

"The virtue?" His mother may have taught him the old ways but they still went to church every Sunday.

"Just so," she agreed. "I'll ask that the cost of that knowledge be your support over Sloth, if that's agreeable."

He swallowed and nodded. It wasn't like he was one to run from his problems in any case.

 

They put him in an iron casket. It felt like a coffin, and might have been if his limbs were not immediately pumped full of blue magic and lightning.

He felt something in him spark. Like magic, like an invitation, An invitation into his own body, magic and human all at once. He was a changeling, magic and human all at once, never truly standing in either realm, but now at home in both. The iron was washed from him, his blood turning red with it, even as the magic sang to him of snow and water.

Coming out of the machine he knew he'd lost something. Lost the choice that all changelings had as their birthright, but he had gained so much more.

The gunshot echoed, and Erskine fell. Steve ran to him, cradling the man in brand new arms. He owed him. This man owned his debt, but he couldn't act unless he asked for it. Instead of asking for his life Dr. Erskine tapped his chest. His will was clear.

Steve bound himself with his own word, his own name, a debt paid willingly. A good man.

Not that he had plans for anything else.

He sprinted through his city with bare feet, and with every step the city called out to him, pushing him forward. The magic in humanity sang to him, crying out for something, someone to believe in. A hero in their hour of desperation.

He protects a child, catches a spy, and saves the day. It starts a legacy, a whisper, a name. Captain America. Senator Brant knows nothing of magic, but shaping image and stories is something he does natural as breathing. A bard for the modern age, and Steve is his main character.

Stories, like names, have power.

He is a modern Hercules, born of the gods, but fighting for man.

It takes a bit for him to get the hang of it. Up there on stage, reading lines and stumbling over his cues. He's more powerful than he's ever been, physically and magically

And yet... with every city, with every performance, with every movie, he feels like he's losing momentum. He gave Peggy his word. He promised Erskine on his dying breath. So he pushes. He asks again and again to be sent to the front where he could do some real good.

When he finally gets his wish, it's not what he pictured.

The men on the front have no use for a hero who can't prove himself. No matter the feat of strength, his hands are still unbloodied.

Peggy is there at least, and if the Virtue is there then it's the place he needs to be.

He'd been feeling off, a tug behind his heart for a while, but he didn't understand it until Peggy told him the men were from the 107th. Only then did his thoughts turn to Bucky. Bucky who had been moaning his name in the dark for how long now? Bucky who had been silently praying for help. Bucky who had saved his life a dozen times over. Bucky who knew his Name and owned his heart.

Steve was an idiot.

He went to the colonel just to make sure, even though he knew Bucky was alive.

He would have gone without Peggy's help, but having the weight of Diligence behind him was a comfort and worth anything he might later owe her. She said he didn't owe her anything. that this was a job that needed doing and so it was her duty to support him. He wasn't sure he believed her, but they could argue it out later... assuming he survived.

Fighting his way through the base is only the second time he's really used his power since Erskine. It's the first time he's fought like this since the legacy of Captain America was built.

He's wearing bright red and blue, but he might as well be invisible when he wants to be, the power behind his glamor is that strong. He doesn't need the keys or codes to free the prisoners, because that's what Captain America does. He rescues people. He sends the prisoners out with a touch of his power, a blessing from the officer that today he truly is.

He's going to rescue Bucky.

Bucky is on a table. Bucky is dying. Unlike Erskine, Bucky has no hesitation about asking for his life. The scales tip back to balance.

The Red Skull is a demon. He is a man possessed, wielding power that was never meant for him. Steve's promises to Dr. Erskine and Peggy push him forward as the fires start up below them. Winters power in his veins - falters.

Steve doesn't know what might have happened if the Red Skull hadn't retreated...

Bucky walks back into camp beside Steve. He knew exactly what he was doing when he called for three cheers. Steve breathed in the belief, the story already spreading, so much more powerful when it was real and true.

A life for a life. Bucky could head home, honorable discharge, and everything would be even between them. But Steve... Steve had power to spare and a team to share it with. He opened a tab, and with every drink they pledged to fight under his banner. An ancient pact that would be honored by all.

"What about you Buck? Ready to follow Captain America into the jaw of death?"

“Hell, no. That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight. I’m following him.”

Bucky turned and smiled at him, lifting the drink that Steve had bought. The scales tipped again.

The new shield was a thing of beauty, even before Howard Stark cast his own spell-science on the metal and made it sing. It was star metal, reflecting the light in his secret heart. Rings like ripples, his power, winter's water and the the stripes of his country both. Steve etched rings of power under the rim, praying in old Latin and the all-speak both, so that it would always return to his hand. So that it would strike where he intended, hurting foe and protecting friend.

Diligence blessed it with a bullet-- though she might have warned him first...

 

The Howling Commandos gained their own legend, and Steve wove spells around them since they couldn't do it themselves. Not a one of them was Magic touched. No more than Bucky had been at least. It wasn't in their blood and no bargain bound them save those of honor and loyalty. Bucky, well, he was a special case. The Captain's right hand man. His childhood friend. The more their legends intertwined the more they were bound together. At that point neither cared to fight it.

 

The mountain was covered in Winter's power. Steve was giddy with it. He grinned and joked, then tossed himself into the cold air crossing a gap that should have been terrifying. He fought like a man possessed. Nothing could touch him. They struck Bucky instead.

He hung from the side of the train, winter wind rushing past and Steve couldn't reach.

"Steve," Bucky pleaded, and under it he heard their entire history. 

He reached. He reached with every inch of his new height and every ounce of winter all around them.

Bucky still fell.

Steve was the hero, he was the one with the legend, Bucky was just a friend, just a character in his story. The papers ate it up. Steve slunk off to get drunk. 

Peggy found him in the bombed out shell of the bar. Her face was blank, but he thought he could feel her disapproval.

She said, "Allow him the dignity of his choice." and he heard 'you're breaking your word.' and 'what would he say if he saw you now' and ' all that power, and what is it good for?' And under that he heard Bucky calling his name as he fell. His true name that only Bucky knew anymore, the wind whipping it away.

Bucky who had been the first person to fight for him before anyone thought he was worth anything. Bucky, no James Buchanan Barnes, who fought even when he didn't have to and died for a war he didn't believe in, just because Steve did believe. More than a brother because it was a choice. A choice that both of them had made together over and over.

 

Bucky who was still calling his name.

 

And how?

 

If Bucky was dead how could Steve still hear him? Would the part of him that belonged to Bucky scream forever at the pain of this loss or...

 

Was it possible?

 

He couldn't ask Peggy. Virtues had no providence over death. There was no one else to ask.

 

An idea started growing unlooked for somewhere deep in his soul. It grew all through the briefing until finally he said no.

 

"Why not? That's exactly what we're going to do."

 

He plays into every story when he rides into the Hydra base alone. It's the kind of stupid stunt that would grace the pages of a penny dreadful or a comic book. Bucky would give him an ear-full for even suggesting such a crazy plan, but when they went through with it, he'd be right there with him.

 

It would kill anyone else, so of course he survives to get captured. That's they way the story goes, and He's become very knowledgeable about stories since he became one. The commandos show up just in time, and for a chaotic half hour he doesn't have time to react.

 

Bucky isn't there. He hadn't thought he would be. If he'd been captured by Hydra there were other bases they would have taken him too. Steve's been clearing them out but even he can only do so much.

 

Then the Red Skull is on a plane, and Peggy has a car. She kisses him. A blessing.

 

The cube is like no kind of earthly magic he's ever seen. It explains the hydra weapons at least, but it also means that Steve has no idea how to control it. The Red Skull has even less. Steve feels no remorse when the cube pulls him apart and sends him spinning into the space between worlds.

 

The plane is damaged, but not all that damaged. He could ease it down, and wait for rescue, but the cold winter air calls to something in him. There's ice bellow. He's well and truly lost, which is the first step to getting where he thinks he needs to go.

 

He can't be sure of course, but there's a chance, and that's enough. Peggy calls him. He tries to apologize, but it comes out all wrong. He was babbling as he pulled all the power of his birthright and all the magic of his legend, up around him, willing it to a shape of his choosing. A spell without words, but properly built on hopes and dreams like all real spells were.

 

The ice closed around him.

 

 


End file.
